Moonspear onwards to the edge

With how quickly he seemed to roll the conversation, Jaguara still found it an effortless task to keep up. She echoed his intial agreement with a quiet “Hm” of her own, eyes widening in acknowledgement when he took up the prospect of morning fog. She wouldn’t fathom what about any weather would be fun, despite her apathy towards the rain, but if that was the excitement he took out of life, who was she to judge? Of course, she very much did, only to comment appropriately, “Being this North I assume night fog isn’t too rare.” She really didn’t know, able to read the weather but the regions response to the season was something she could only truly know by studying it  through time.

Appropriately a drop of rain hung at the edge of her nose as he continued on, and in silen d Jaguara listened swiping her tongue across her maw to catch it.  Despite his personal preferences about the wet weather, Jaguara's own carelessness stemmed from the fact that her fur was lengthy enough to deflect most of the rain off of her rather than chill the bone. This though could change the longer she chanced the weather, and the humidity was becoming a tad uncomfortable. She decided to relent her position taking the responsible stance, and rolled over completely to lift on to her paws only to give a swift shake.

Tiptoeing around the male, she maneuvered over the edge of the cliff and onto a beaten trail that slanted at a dangerous angle.  She didn't seemed phased, traipsing neatly over the carved side of the mountain.  “The mouth of the cave is a little south from here.” She explained, revealing her intentions though she didn't save him the courtesy of stopping to wait.